Trees, trees and more trees
by Crazycatscarmen
Summary: Stanford Pines does the unimaginable. He gets himself lost. Stan has to go find him. Pre-weirdmaggedon. Not canon compliant. Guess I'm calling this the campfire au. It's for my girl, Fantasy-Magic18 who really wanted Stan and Ford going camping. Yet, I just had to make it angsty. T for future adventures.
1. Hi!

**Yeah... Edit: Fixed some grammar errors, like lol why does no one mention them. Thanks for that, actually.  
**

* * *

Ford rummaged through the many bottles and containers of spell making supplies in the basement. He had everything from watermelon seeds (you'd be surprised) to the root of the bickwick tree (a small tree, to be sure, but extremely potent. Best sleep he ever got was from the tea he made with that root) He searched faster- getting more frantic when what he wanted wasn't to be found, nearly knocking things off the shelves.

Another moment and he stopped. It wasn't here. He scowled at the shelves. What could have happened to it!?

Ford had been looking for a very specific ingredient needed to create the protective barrier around the Sha- his house. It was a lavender colored powder- something he had created from several different magic born plants from within the woods. They were extremely difficult to discover and retrieve! Not to mention the process of grinding each one into a fine powder. Ford pushed his glasses off his face as he rubbed at his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He already had the unicorn hair necessary for the process! The only thing he needed now was that powder, but it was gone! He tried to think back to thirty years ago- what had he done with it?!

Stan certainly didn't know about this room- something he kept very well hidden, another secret room. He was glad of it, Stan might have sold all his store had he known about it.

He thought back to when he was researching Gravity Falls, but it had been so long ago and thinking back brought memories...memories that were much too painful to dwell on now. He had a duty to perform. He couldn't be getting distracted by a past he couldn't change.

Ford took a deep breathe and released a sigh, letting all his frustration flow away with it, replacing it with determination.

It was either get the ingredients or stay at the mercy of Bill and his tricks. It wasn't even a choice- not really. Ford returned the bottles and containers to their proper spots and made sure the room was well sealed before turning to leave.

The journey would take several days- most of what he needed hiding in remote corners or deep in the woods. Not ideal, yet it was better than staying like this. If he had the barrier, not only would the nightmares end, but Dipper and Mabel {and Stan} would be safe. Ford was especially concerned for the boy, he had already been tricked once, not that Ford could judge him.

Ford made his way upstairs. He would need some equipment. Now if only he knew where his camping supplies were...

He found them eventually. They had been in the closet where he'd left them. They were old and dusty. He could only suppose that Stan had no use for them, but they would suffice. He had swiftly packed a backpack with everything he'd need. Not that he needed much for himself- most of it was tools so he could create his concoction as quickly as humanly possible.

Ford wanted to just leave- but he supposed everyone needed to know what was going on and why he was leaving. He wanted them to be safe while he was gone, after all. He quickly scribbled down a note of where he was headed and why he was leaving before heading out the door.

He stepped out into the outdoors and took a breath of fresh forest air. He'd missed this.

...

Stan wasn't worried. He wasn't.

...He was worried.

Mabel had found the note that his brother had left about needing supplies. He'd reread it enough to have it memorized.

 _Family,_

 _I am heading on an expedition into the woods for Lavedoctaus, a concoction pivotal in creating the barrier and in which I seemed to have run out of since I had last lived here. It's made of several plants, most that were rare back in my day, each one residing in different parts of the forest. At the least, the journey should take less than three days. At the most, perhaps a week, although that is unlikely. I'll be taking my journals with me, they hold the map necessary to find everything I need._

 _Please, be safe, and do NOT make a deal with Cipher while I'm gone._

 _-Stanford Pines._

It had been ten days. Stan was definitely worried.

Stanley sighed. Both the kids were starting to notice- he could see it in their eyes. He hated that. The worry. Who was he to worry about? The only thing those kids should be worried about is homework and making friends. Not an old cranky guy they were hanging out with for the summer.

Although, these thoughts were pointless. No matter what he thought they _should_ worry about, they were still worried about him.

He was at the table, staring at the note. He had just closed up shop and his anxious thoughts were overtaking him once more. Despite their argument, Stan still cared. He had never _stopped_ caring. Even though it seemed like Ford had.

Stan folded the note up and left it on the table. Holding it wasn't going to fix anything. He wasn't even sure why he was so worried! Ford could obviously take care of himself.

Yet.

Ford also wasn't one to overestimate. If Ford said at most that it would take a week, then at most it would take a week. He'd always been like that. If he said it would take him an hour to finish his paper, then that's how long it would take. Now sure, he would fuss over it and stay up way too late going over it over and over again, but still. It was finished.

Stan was about to get up and try and distract himself when the kids walked into the kitchen. They looked up with matching smiles.

"Hey, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel bounced from the doorway.

"Hey." Dipper gave him a half-wave.

Stan grunted and tried to move past but was hindered by a Mabel. She frowned.

"Grunkle Stan! You can't leave yet, I haven't gotten to question you what we're gonna do about your sad face!" She pouted and Stan cocked a brow.

"Uh...what?"

Mabel rolled her eyes and pointed at the chair, a 'no funny business do as I say or I will glitter you' look in her eye.

Well, guess this was as good a distraction as any. He sighed,

"What is it you want? Money? I already taught ya both how to forge it." He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, wanting whatever Mabel wanted to get to the point.

She sat in a chair across from him and then dramatically stood up again. "Grunkle Stan, you need to go on a rescue mission!" She declared, both perfectly serious and dramatic.

Stan stared uncomprehendingly. "Uh, what was that? Dipper, what did she say?" Stan looked to Dipper for help, who had been nodding along with his sister as he prepared sandwiches on the counter.

"You heard her. We- well, you need to go rescue Great-Uncle Ford!" Dipper gestured to the note on the table. "We've read it to and we both know that Great-Uncle Ford was supposed to be back by now."

Stan looked to both of them, surprised written all over his face. He knew they'd noticed, but he didn't think about actually doing anything about it.

"You want me to...go on a rescue mission for Ford? Kids, I don't think that's a good idea." Stan rubbed at his neck uncomfortably. "I mean...I know the forest pretty well, but I have no idea where to start! Plus, who said Ford needed rescuing? Don't you two do stuff like that or somethin'? Why me?"

Mabel grinned, "So you two can make up, of course!" She paused, "Hmm, and to make sure he's okay too. Even crazy fit science adventurers can get hurt." She gasped, eyes wide and pleading, "Grunkle Stan! What if he's hurt! C'mon, now you _have_ to rescue him!" Mabel hug on his arm. "PLEASE?!"

Stan shook her off and chuckled. " _Fine!_ Fine! I'll go! Just don't rip my arm off before I even start!" Stan stood up before glancing down again. Dipper was holding a plate of plastic-wrapped sandwiches.

He smiled sheepishly, "For the trip. It might take a while." Stan took the plate and the kid ran off again. Before Stan could figure out what to do next he came back in with a bag. Stan stared at it in horror and jumped,

"Kid! Where'd ya find that thing!?" It was a red duffle bag. Obviously worn and battered from years of use. Dipper's brow furrowed in confusion at his outburst.

"I found it. I figured since Great-Uncle Ford took the camping bag, that this would be big enough. It looks a little torn up, but I thought it would be fine." Dipper's head cocked to the side,

"Is it not okay? I already packed it..."

Stan's horrified expression worsened, his jaw-dropping and Dipper's mouth snapped shut. Mabel tugged on his jacket sleeve.

"Grunkle Stan?"

Stan snapped out of it, flinching away. Mabel stepped back, but Stan just smiled in apology and hesitantly took the bag from Dipper.

"No, it's fine, kid. Just...ah. I don't associate this bag with much of anything good. That's all." Stan swung it onto the table and unzipped it on one fluid, practiced movement. He muttered under his breath.

"Thought I threw this thing out..." Stan shuffled through everything Dipper had packed it with and raised an appreciative brow. He turned to Dipper with a grin,

"Hey, you thought of everything!" He huffed and flipped the hat off Dipper's head with a quick flick of the fingers. Dipper grinned as he went to catch it. "I'll make a criminal outta you two yet!" Stan zipped the bag back up and hoisted it over his shoulder.

Dang, this was _not_ something Stan had wanted to feel again. He hated how familiar it felt sitting there.

...

After making sure he was prepared {even though prepared meant heading off into the woods with limited supplies and no idea where he was supposed to be heading,} he stepped outside the door and took a deep breath.

 _It's just an adventure- right? You're not homeless anymore...you're doing this willingly._ Stan swallowed hard and took a step forward.

 _I'm coming, Ford. I'm coming.  
_

* * *

 **This is for my girl, Fantasy Magic! I was supposed to upload this ages ago. It will continue, I actually have an idea of where it's going! SO...enjoy I guess.**

 **Stan: Stick and Stones may break my bones, But my fist can break your nose.**

 **Ford: What? That has nothing to do with anything.**

 **Stan *blinks*: What?**

 **Ford: ...were you asleep?**

 **Stan: Uh...maybe?**


	2. Hope it makes sense!

**To live is to suffer. Surviving is to have a reason for your suffering.**

* * *

He hadn't really planned for this, but since when did any of his plans go according to...plan?

Ford sat against a wall in the first uninhabited cave he could find. His hand pressed firmly against his chest to staunch the bleeding. Somehow he'd managed to stumble across the Gremloblin's nest, even though he could have sworn it was on the other side of the forest. Both parties had been surprised and it had quickly turned into a fight. A fight Ford had not been expecting.

Ford had managed to pull his gun swiftly enough to get a shot out, but because of his determination to stand his ground he was slow to dodge and the creature got in one swift swipe to his chest. Ford was quick to incapacitate the specimen and get the FRELL OUTTA THERE.

He was so close. He only had another two ingredients to recover before he could make the trip back to the house. This was just an...unfortunate detour. Although he berated himself for not already being finished with his mission. He was sure he'd passed the seven-day limit he'd given himself and the others. He sighed and shook the thoughts from his head.

He could already feel the venom spreading, disabling his limbs. It wasn't permanent- he knew from first-hand experience, but it would take a couple hours to wear off. Ford bit his lower lip in concentration. He was wounded and bleeding quickly. If he didn't wrap himself up before he was paralyzed completely he might bleed out right there in the cave. Then the shack and everyone would be in danger, with no way to defend themselves. No one knew the things Ford did when it came to defeating Bill. He was the only one {excepting his many counterparts in other dimensions} to even bother trying.

As fast as he could, Ford sorted through the contents of his bag and managed to pull out a single roll of heavy duty medicinal wraps. His hands were steady, despite the pressure to move faster lying on his shoulders. This wasn't the first time he'd been injured when on his own and it would likely not be the last.

He started to lose feeling in his fingertips and he worked faster, trading quality for speed. It was that or die and Stanford refused to die.

He had work to do, after all.

Just as his left arm completely gave out, Ford managed to tie off the bandage and released a relieved sigh. He could feel himself growing weaker by the moment. It wouldn't be long before he was nothing but a pile of flesh on the cave floor. Until the venom wore off, anyway.

He didn't even have time to start a fire before his eyes slipped shut of their own accord. Lying against the cold stone, he couldn't fight it- and it wasn't long before his mind fell asleep right along with the rest of his body.

...

Stan hated this.

He hated hiking. He hated having to swat away bugs every few seconds. He hated...he hated...

He hated being lost. He hated wandering around aimlessly.

If he thought about it, he would realize every time he did so was because of Ford.

He didn't think about it.

His footsteps were surprisingly light but no less loud with all the leaves and small sticks that littered the forest floor. He had been walking for hours, letting his feet guide him forward. It was as good a tactic as any. He had no idea where Ford had gone, or even started from when he'd left.

Stan winced as he accidentally tripped on a jutting tree root and fell, catching himself on the palm of his hands. How had he not seen it that? He glanced up and noticed the dull stars twinkling above.

Oh.

Night had fallen. Stan stood up and shook himself out before slipping the bag off his shoulder. He unzipped it, riffling through the contents before his hand found the flashlight.

"Aha!" Stan flicked it on and blinked at his eyes adjusted to the sudden change. He could see! Stan trudged onwards. Although, his mission had changed slightly.

Now he was looking for a safe place to sleep for the night. He would just plop down and sleep anywhere- comfort wasn't really an issue. He'd slept in worse places.

No, he was more worried about dying before he could even find his twin. It would be unfortunate if he were to be eaten by some of the weird things he'd seen in this forest before he could even get a day into his travels.

Shadows flickered on the edge of the light his flashlight put off and Stan stopped.

Something was wrong.

All his nerves on edge, Stan listened as close as he could. He wasn't sure what had set him off, he just _knew_ something was off.

Or maybe he was just old and paranoid. It was likely.

The light breeze that had been his constant companion since he'd started had stopped, yet he could have sworn he heard the soft movement of air, somewhere nearby.

He concentrated as hard as he could, jaw tight and eyes focused on his surroundings as he moved the flashlight slowly back and forth, taking delicate steps forward.

He walked like that for a while, following the noise. When his flashlight hit something other than the brown bark of wood, he froze.

A cave. It was a cave! He wanted to laugh. Of course, it was just a cave. It was probably a tunnel of some sort, he could hear air traveling through it.

Stan walked towards the entrance and studied it for a moment. It was empty.

And dry. And clean- kinda. Stan shrugged.

Better than in a tree. He dropped the bag on the ground and lied down beside it. He didn't need a campfire. It wasn't cold and he wasn't hungry, so a fire would likely just attract unwanted attention.

He'd slept in worse, he really had. Stan didn't let himself think about how his back was going to ache in the morning as he let his eyes slip shut. He was exhausted.

 _I'm just taking a break Ford, I'll be up an' at it in the mornin'._

 _I swear.  
_

* * *

 **What?**

 **I'm not crazy, you're crazy. Hehe, I promise fluff will come soon. Maybe. Don't die all!**

 **Stan: AAAAAAAHHH!**

 **Ford: Woah- What's going on?!**

 **Stan: Nothing!**

 **Ford: Is that a spider on you're shoulder?**

 **Stan: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!**

 **Dude, stop looking at me like that. Admit it, you smiled. That was funny. Just imagine big bag Stanley swatting at a harmless little spider. Seriously, it's hilarious.**


	3. Hope it makes sense pt 2

**So! When I say reviews motivate me, you have no idea how serious I am. MM! Here is your new campfire au chapter. Fantasy magic18, if you're reading this...it's been awhile, eh? XD. Anyway, on with the fic.**

* * *

 _"Ow!"_

Stan jerked up, his entire body tensing as he was suddenly pulled from his fitful slumber. Stan turned towards the source of the noise and blinked.

Where was he!? Why was he staring into a void of darkness!?

Stan stood up and after a moment, everything rushed back to him. Right, the mission. Stan's brow furrowed as a softer yelp echoed once again from farther within the confines of the cave. What was that noise? Stan, alert, slipped on his brass knuckles and stepped swiftly, but silently, through the cave, leaving his bag behind him. He could retrieve it if he didn't die.

The cave was dark, but like he'd hypothesized the day before, it was more of a tunnel and he quickly saw light come from the other end. Funny, he didn't remember this tunnel being here before. Not that he knew where _here_ was. Stan shook the thought from his head as he approached the source of soft groans coming from in front of him.

The tunnel was lit with a dim light from the outside, barely enough to see by. Stan stared hard at what he thought was the shape of a...man.

His mind immediately went to Ford and his rescue mission. Against his better judgement, he called out. The figure was twenty or so feet away, so if it was going to attack (and by those groans, he doubted it) Stan knew he'd have ample enough reaction time to run or fight as he pleased.

"Hey!" Stan said. He didn't try and make himself seem threatening. That wouldn't be necessary if the figure was complacent. He knew that there were just as many simple, harmless creatures in the forest as there were dangerous ones.

"Stanely!?"

Stan's jaw dropped and he rushed forward, Ford's unmistakable growl bouncing off the walls of the barren tunnel.

Stan's skidded to a stop right beside where'd he'd spotted the shadowed figure and suddenly he could see, being closer to the light. Ford was scowling up at him.

"Get away! I don't know what you are, but give up my brother's skin. Now." Ford snapped, his face seemingly carved in a permanent frown. That is, until he grimaced in pain, his teeth grating against each other as his fingers twitched. Stan's brow furrowed. Not because of Ford's obvious confusion over whether Stan was human or not, but because of the fact that Ford hadn't moved.

"Ford!" Stan rolled his eyes. "Okay, first, you are an oxymoron. I swear it. Secondly, how the fracking did you get an injury like that!? Oh, and I'm not a skin stealer or whatever you were talking about. Why aren't you moving?"

Stan wasn't entirely surprised to find Ford injured. He usually hoped for the best, but he _always_ prepared for the worst. Although he never did manage to ever convince himself that his brother might be dead. It just wasn't a possibility he was capable of considering.

Ford growled at him. "Fortunately for _you_ , I've been paralyzed by a Gremoblin. It's wearing off. Slowly." Ford gritted his teeth again in agitation.

Either way, he needed to get Ford out of here, whether Ford believed he was one of his creepy creatures or not.

While he thought of what to do, Ford was still staring at him suspiciously.

"How can I know your not the shapeshifter!? I haven't had the chance to check the bunker yet! You could've stolen Stan's form. Why would Stan come looking for me!?"

Stan was yanked out of his thoughts and he glared at Ford.

"Ford. Shut up."

Ford stared at him for a moment and then he smiled slightly.

"It is you, Stanely!" Ford's brow furrowed, "What are you doing out here!?"

Stan rolled his eyes as he began rummaging through Ford's camping bag.

"Wrong question." Stan grunted, deeming the contents of the bag useless for whatever he was trying to do. Ford's brow raised.

"Be careful with that bag!" He snapped. Ford waited for Stan to speak again and when he didn't Ford sighed. "Fine. What are you doing throwing my stuff around?"

Stan huffed. "Trying to find a way to get you out of here? Why do you ask questions with obvious answers? I thought you were supposed to be the genius?"

Ford scoffed. "I never majored in psycology Stanely! Either way, the only reason I believe I'm even capable of talking calmly at the moment is because of my excessive blood loss."

Stan snorted. "It would take you to be loopy to actually talk with me." Stan pulled out another bag and yelled out.

"Aha!" He pulled out the three journals. "Finally. Alright Ford, where's the alleged map you said was in these?"

Ford blinked. "Beginning of Journal two."

Stan opened the book quickly and nodded when he found the page. He spent a minute or so studying it when his brow furrowed.

"Um...Ford?

"Stanely?"

Stan crouched down beside his brother and faced the book towards him.

"This tunnel doesn't exist."

* * *

 **I would say I'm sorry, but when it's ten pm and you have to get up at five every morning and yet your STILL writing fanfiction, there isn't much energy or time to be apologetic about it. XD so, all my love to fantasy-magic18 who inspired this fic in the first place, and MM who's amazing (Cipher, you have a problem. But cake is good...) Reviews continue to make me laugh.**

 **ahem. Anyway...**

 **Stan: the snow is cold but I'm colder.**

 **Ford: are you dreaming again?**

 **Stan: what!? No! I was reading that poster. *Points to movie poster with a block of ice on it."**

 **Ford: ...I'm done. *Walks out***


End file.
